After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week,M...

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week,Mary Magdelene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.

There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lordcame down from Heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled away the stone and sat on it.His appearance was like lightning and his clothes were white as snow. Theguards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I knowthat you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; He hasrisen, just as He said. Come and see the place where He lay. Then go quicklyand tell His disciples: He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of youinto Galilee. There you will see Him. Now I have told you.”

So the women hurried away, terrified yet full of joy, andran to tell His disciples. Suddenly, Jesusmet them. “Greetings,” He said. They came and clasped His feet andworshiped Him. Then Jesus said, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers togo to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Terrified and full of joy. This isn’t the first time I havebeen here, have felt this strange mix of emotion that is both trepidation andwonder, hesitation and excitement. Fittingly, I seem to find myself here mostoften during the season of Easter. This isn’t the first time this story hasspoken deeply to my heart, stating exactly what I do not have words for.

Our family is extraordinarily blessed to have a small, three-bedroom“house” in our backyard. Over the years we have been very privileged to havepeople of many kinds live with us here as they recover from set-backs and movetoward what God has for them next. Sick people who have been discharged fromthe local hospital but still have no place to rest, homeless families lookingfor jobs or a means of support, friends, who have quickly become like family,all of them looking for Jesus, looking for love. People have been loved to newlife here, and some have been loved straight into the arms of Jesus.

In the quiet of the evening, after I have kissed cheeks andtucked in bodies and prayed over sleepy little heads, I sneak out to the backyard and I watch the new life. Anna reads to her son, Simon, as they wait forthe 8th in a series of surgeries to repair his esophagus. They stayhere so that they can be close to a hospital in case of an emergency, but Annahelps me and encourages me more than she knows. Yusufu, recently homeless inthe community of Masese due to illness that caused him to lose his job, servesfood to his two young children, Mariam and Shafik. In the morning, he will goagain to dig in the garden and save up the money he makes so that they can moveout and stand on their own two feet. Agnes, partially paralyzed due to a strokeand left to die by family members who were afraid and did not understand hercondition, sleeps soundly next to her three year old, Lotuke, tired from a longday of walking practice. I bet she’ll be able to do it without her cane any daynow! Margaret, her tiny, twenty year-old body ravished by AIDS, discharged fromthe hospital but with nowhere to go, smiles brightly at me with her son, Sam inher lap.

Beauty from ashes. I don’t just know it to be true, I get tolive it. We get to watch redemption take place, we get to reach out and touchit, we get to be a part of it.

And then Margaret groans that her stomach hurts. In amoment, I am in a different place at a different time with another friend whosestomach had hurt. We are at the hospital and they are telling us that there isnothing they can do. I slowly watch her get worse and worse. I hold her handand I read the Psalms, and she breathes her last. I can hardly breathe. I reachout to hold Margaret’s hand and it looks so similar to a hand I held not toolong ago – a hand I held for hours that turned into days and days that turnedinto weeks until finally I got to place her hand in the hands of Jesus as Hetook her from this earth. I blink. It is just a stomachache.

Makerere walks by and I catch a glimpse of the scar on hisleg, a scar that God used to heal my heart. I breathe long and deep all thatGod is doing in this place, all that He is allowing me to participate in, andmy heart swells with gratitude, with deep, unshakable joy. And in the samebreath, just like the women at the tomb, I am terrified. Because I know it tobe true: in order to experience the deep joys of the Father, we must experiencethe heartaches, too. In order to know Jesus the way that I have known Him, Ihave had to give my heart to people in ways that I would never have chosen.

I can see the women with their eyes wide as they tremble infront of the tomb. They listen to the angel’s words – can it be? – and theyscurry, terrified and filled with joy.

Is it possible to be full of joyand thankfulness and simultaneously afraid of what obedience might bring next?I feel it stirring in my heart, the strange mix of pain and excitement that Iwill feel as each of our friends here transitions into the new life, outside ofour home, that God has planned for them; the strange and devastating love thatgrows when we love the way Christ has loved us.

I sit there in the candle light,13 growing young women sleeping soundly a few yards away and all kinds of livesbeing transformed before my eyes. I sit, terrified and full of joy.

And Jesus meets me. And He says, “Do not be afraid.”

And I ask simply, “How?” Becauseas excited as I am about all He has planned, there is no denying that sometimesI am just plain scared.

His answer comes clear, steady.“Go and tell my brothers. Go and tell them the good news. Go and tell all theworld that they will see me. They willsee me.”

And His words ring true. We seeHim here, in the midst of pain and hurt and suffering, we see His glory allaround. We see Him reconciling all things to Himself, drawing all nations toHimself, making all things new.

I fall at His feet and worshipHim, for it is the only thing I know to do. I clasp His feet and remember allHe has done for me and all He has yet to do. I remember His resurrection - Lifefrom death. Beauty from ashes. Beauty from the torture and the nail scars andthe blood red life spilling out everywhere. Beauty from the black of the tomb.And He does this here in my life, He gives us life to the fullest, and we cansee Him, even here.

We tremble. Because who wouldn’ttremble at the feet of the Savior? At just a glimpse of all He might haveplanned? But as we trust, we fill with joy and peace, we overflow with hope,just as it is promised. We know all He has done for us, and we know all that Hehas yet to do when He brings us into His kingdom.

And my prayer today is that wemight not be afraid. Friend, whatever it is you are facing, do not be afraid. Whateverit is He is calling you to in obedience, rest assured – you will see Him! Goand tell the world of what He has done for us, for you! We can trust Him. Andtoday, every day, we REJOICE in Him!

*I have asked my friends if Icould use their names in these stories in the hopes that you would join me inprayer for each of them. As the Lord brings us to mind would you pray? We areso grateful.